


Because, I Think

by Fluffifullness



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Durarara!! Kink Meme, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:11:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffifullness/pseuds/Fluffifullness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it's the lilting tickle of two men's breath on bare skin, the shared secret and the knowing that there's always going to be this one thing that only the three of them can be a part of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because, I Think

**Author's Note:**

> I - I have never written a threesome before. ^.^;  
>  _And_... of course I did it in response to a [kink meme request](http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=23531885#t23531885).

Exactly what part of this works?

Maybe it’s the contagious glint of mischief in Izaya’s eyes, Shizuo thinks. Maybe it’s Tom-san’s authoritative tone of voice, the confident glide of his hands and the seamless way they always manage to position Shizuo just right. Maybe it’s the lilting tickle of two men’s breath on bare skin, the shared secret and the knowing that there’s always going to be this one thing that only the three of them can be a part of.

Shizuo would brush it all off as nothing more than a symptom of their collective abnormality, if it weren’t for the fact that Tom-san’s just about as normal as they come in this city. Another exception to every rule Shizuo tries to lay down in his mind, and if it weren’t for him there would have been no mediator for the other two. No catalyst, no cause for the effect.

Hell if it doesn’t feel like their three-times-screwed relationship would have happened anyway, though.

“Don’t think too hard, Shizu-chan,” Izaya purrs, then, and Shizuo’s train of thought has to slow way down to account for the informant’s tongue crossing the sensitive region of his stomach – pausing, of course, to grant his navel a little extra attention. “It won’t do a protozoan like you any good.”

Damn, has the flea gotten good at reading Shizuo – almost as good as Shizuo is at reading Izaya, he thinks, and he curses under his breath as his gaze wanders over to the open doorway. Tom-san is leaning – shirtless, well-defined muscle and the warm glow of his perpetually tanned skin – against it, an amused smile tugging at the right corner of his lips as he watches the other two.

“You just gonna stand there all night?”

Tom’s grin widens to reveal the bright white of his teeth. “Dunno. I’d almost hate to interrupt the two of you.”

Izaya rests his palm on Shizuo’s lips and raises his eyes to wink at Tom. “Then I guess that makes Shizu-chan all mine for tonight, ne?”

The debt collector laughs and separates himself from the smooth wood by taking a deliberate step forward. “Now, that’s hardly fair…”

Shizuo sees Tom’s hands go to his belt buckle, and he responds immediately by sitting up to tug at his own. They’re at Tom’s place this time, after all, so it’s only fair that he be allowed to set the pace.

Izaya shifts back onto the bed beside Shizuo with a little pout, but he’s just as quick as ever to take advantage of the situation – Shizuo’s fingers insistently brushed aside, slender fingers teasingly slow as Izaya works at the clasp – because yielding isn’t his forte, really, and Shizuo’s long since stopped caring that the informant always feels the need to maintain at least some semblance of control.

(They all know, anyway, that Izaya is just as much theirs as they are his. He can’t – _doesn’t_ – pretend not to know that what they have is the true norm and not just the series of drunken one-night stands that it began as.)

“My, aren’t we eager,” Izaya purrs when Shizuo shivers in response to the steady vibration of fingers plucking ineffectually at the top button of his slacks.

“Fuck, Izaya, not like you just started –”

Tom shushes them as his knee pulls the mattress down at the edge. “Make love, not war,” he quips, earning himself a little chuckle from Izaya. Shizuo groans, and not even he’s really sure what the reason for that is – irritation, frustration, or perhaps the straining of his erection against the dark blue of his boxers.

“And quit teasing him, for christ’s sake,” Tom adds, his hand large and amiable as he toys absently with Izaya’s hair. The informant nods lazily and curls his fingers underneath the band of Shizuo’s boxers. He goes slow anyway, lets the tips of his neatly trimmed nails tickle warm flesh so that the rise and fall of Shizuo’s chest quickens right along with the thumping in-and-out of his pulse.

Shizuo retaliates in his own way by raising his hands to fiddle with Izaya’s jeans. “Worry about your own clothes first,” he growls impatiently, and the volume of his voice spikes as cool air hits his groin.

Tom pulls Shizuo’s hands back and presses a reassuring kiss to the man’s lips when he starts to protest. Izaya takes that opportunity to finish undressing and lets the remainder of his clothes join the others’ on the floor. That done, he leans in to steal an open-mouthed kiss from Tom, whose hands are still there cupping Shizuo’s face.

Izaya makes little satisfied noises and presses his way deeper so that his tongue can trace the rise and fall of Tom’s ragged breathing. His knee jerks upward to collide directly with Shizuo’s groin – sudden pressure-almost-pain that sends Shizuo moaning and panting beneath the other two.

“Oops,” Izaya laughs, pulling away. “That was an accident.”

“The hell it wa –” Shizuo gasps, then, and his sentence ends in a high pitched mewling as Tom’s pointer finger traces its way up from the base of his cock to the head. Shizuo expects him to pull away after that, but of course he simply replaces his finger with his thumb and squeezes as he rubs tight circles into the skin there.

“Ngh…aaahh…”

When Tom leans in to nibble at Shizuo’s neck, the blonde can feel his sempai’s hard-on just inches away from his own, twitching and heavy and damp against the taut skin of his inner thigh.

“Ahh,” Izaya complains from behind Shizuo. “You’re both so selfish~!”

Shizuo scoffs but responds to the cue nevertheless. His hands are free, so he offers them to Izaya, lets the informant guide them up to his cock and whimpers softly as Tom introduces the smooth heat of his own hard-on to Shizuo’s. Izaya doesn’t warn the blonde to be gentle, which can only mean that he’s looking for a bit of punishment – easy, Shizuo thinks with a grin that betrays none of his own near-desperation.

He immediately elicits a startled forward thrust from Izaya with a quick sideways twist of his left hand. His right thumb then gives the informant much the same treatment that Tom’s just returned to giving him – easy back and forth movements, the smearing of precum and the heavy heat knotting itself about the pit of his stomach.

Tom stops them just in time to skirt the climax that every one of them is approaching. He’s setting the pace, after all, and he knows how to read the signs that surface on the faces of his companions – like the back of his own hand, he’s told them more than once. Doesn’t even have to try. Shizuo hears, rather than sees, the cap of a tube of lubricant pop open, and he does his best to part his legs further before he actually feels the cold of Tom’s fingers tracing the backs of his thighs.

Izaya whimpers softly in response to the loss of Shizuo’s hands on his cock. “Tom,” he whines.

“Hang on,” Shizuo agrees, his voice shaking right along with his arms as he tugs himself into a sitting position. “Little help?” he mutters meekly, and Izaya grins as he and Tom help the blonde onto his hands and knees. It’s sort of incredible, really – the strongest man in Ikebukuro, maybe the strongest in the world, and yet his muscles always turn to jelly the minute he’s put in these situations. When it comes to that, there’s really no end to Izaya’s teasing.

Tom, on the other hand, is more quietly amused. Shizuo can hear it in his voice and in his breathing – loud and barely felt as he comes nearer, as the tip of his pointer finger traces the space between Shizuo’s cheeks and as he warns the blonde to relax.

Izaya isn’t as generous. He never has been, probably never will be, and Shizuo doesn’t care because that’s just Izaya. Izaya is an ass, but he’s an ass who’s got the decency to at least take the drool-slickened corner of Shizuo’s lips between his teeth – a sharp, stinging pain and Izaya’s lips framing Shizuo’s as he breathes fast and hard against the blonde’s cheek – a warning and a request, Shizuo decides, and he leaves his mouth open for the thrust of Izaya’s cock past his teeth and onto the back of his tongue.

It coincides perfectly – they’re doing it on purpose, Shizuo’s sure they are – with the insertion, almost all the way up to his knuckle, of Tom’s finger. Shizuo can’t help groaning into the bulge of Izaya’s cock as his body rocks back onto the foreign object. He might have cursed or bit out someone’s name, but his tongue never stops moving against Izaya’s sticky-smooth weight and he settles for garbled incoherencies.

“Sh-Shizu-chan, if you make too much noise…”

For lack of a better way of expressing himself, Shizuo raises an eyebrow at Izaya and scrapes his length gently with the sharp corners of his canines. The informant shudders and twitches from head to toe, but he still manages to cling somewhat to his composure.

Until, of course, Tom slips another finger past Shizuo’s entrance and up against his prostate. “Sorry,” he murmurs when Shizuo whimpers more loudly, more unsteady and dizzy and dark-eyed. “Want me to go slower?”

Izaya laughs. “Poor Shizu-chan.”

 _No, no – don’t._ Shizuo doesn’t back down, not before Izaya and not in front of Tom, and it feels good – the kind of good that can only be described simply, the kind of good that makes you feel like there’s nowhere better than here.

He moans softly, packs the vocalization with everything he can’t say now, and Izaya does the same because the vibration that travels all the way up Shizuo’s tongue can only feel good, incredible. Tom’s fingers scissor once, twice inside him, and then there’s the wordless warning of hands spreading him wide as Tom eases in and Shizuo rocks back with a muffled gasp – _more, more,_ more.

Izaya traces the rise and fall of Shizuo’s eyebrows, brushes his bangs aside and then surprises him by tangling his hands in his hair. “Shizu…chan…”

It hurts, and – Tom’s steady thrusts, the perfect rhythm he knows to set for Shizuo – it feels good, amazing. It means that Izaya’s close, that he’s less about pretending and more about Shizuo’s tongue hot and wet and his lips a blend of motion and soft pressure. Shizuo feels Izaya’s want pooling in his own stomach, throbbing in his own cock and running like little feet up and down his spine. He knows intuitively that Tom feels the same, that his breath rasping in his throat means not enough air to fill his lungs.

It’s that, Shizuo thinks. It’s definitely that – the togetherness, the knowing how they feel and the being so perfectly in synch with them. The impossible made inevitable.

He comes with a strangled cry and feels Tom thrust with greater force this time – enough now that his back already aches with it, his prostate hit dead on again and the sharp cry of his elder’s climax. He’s breathing hard and his mouth is open and he feels the hot jets of Izaya’s cum soak his hair and drip down to sting in his wide-open eyes.

“Shizu-chan, Shizu-chan,” Izaya’s moaning, again and again as he takes the blonde’s face in his hands and presses yet another kiss to his swollen-red-and-wet lips.

Tom pulls out but doesn’t immediately remove his hands from Shizuo’s hips. Still holding him – as if the fading euphoria might somehow carry Shizuo away with it, a ghost or something too delicate to be left alone – he moves to one side and lets Shizuo collapse back onto the sheets. Izaya grows silent, too, so that the only sound is the apartment settling around the three of them breathing hard, hearts hammering and gradually slowing.

“So,” Izaya breathes. “What were you thinking about before, Shizu-chan?”

He’s lying next to Shizuo, his face not more than an inch or two from the blonde’s. Tom exhales loudly – his version of a laugh when he’s still basking in the afterglow of a good night – and brings his chest up close to Shizuo’s back. He drapes his arm over the other two and murmurs something about Shizuo’s forte.

“Shut up,” the blonde mutters defensively.

“And?”

“Just,” Shizuo mumbles. “Y’know. This.”

Tom nods, laughs. “I know what you mean.”

“Did Shizu-chan have an epiphany?” Izaya teases, and Shizuo can feel Tom’s smile against the back of his neck.

“Nah,” he admits. “Not really.”

And exactly which part of this, Shizuo wonders, would he ever be able to live without?


End file.
